I’m sorry. We’ve lost him.

Ryan Reynolds is officially dead to me. He went and married that flabby, white, giant hoo-hoo girl this weekend.

I’m moving him to my Backup Boyfriend Boneyard, where he shall be buried along with Tim Matheson (he got old), Brad Pitt (he is a cheater), Shawn Cassidy (I grew up and realized he’s a dork), that dude I saw in a black shirt one time (he went into a store I don’t like), and the rest. I guess I have to move the Maroon Five guy and Jason Stratham up on the list. I might give Matt Damon a move up as well if he does another Bourne movie and wears a paper sack over his melon, since I only want to date his arms & shoulders.

I have no comment to share on this news and must retreat to my ice cream for the afternoon.

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